Grown
by defaid
Summary: How did it feel to have them back after so long? The hobbits' return home, from the viewpoint of those who knew them best.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hopefully this will turn into a multi-chapter thing. That's what I'm planning, anyway. Reviews are appreciated and constructive criticism is welcome.

And now for the legal bit; characters, places and events are the inventings of J.R.R. Tolkien, not me. Pity.

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Oh, but he had grown. She had thought he was grown before and he had been, in body, intellect and sensibility. But she looked at him now, and saw that there was something there, in the way he held his head, in his voice, strong but still sweet. Something that hadn't been there last she saw him.

Last she saw him... That had been little over a year ago now. To think, her little boy, more precious to her than anything she could ever buy with money, more precious than stones and gems and metals...

To think that she had almost given him up for dead, only to see him riding into the courtyard, all clothed in leather and brass buckles and a sword at his side. A sword! Where had he been, what had he done, what had he faced to warrant such a blade on his belt? She hadn't cared, of course, not at that moment. She had only wanted to hold him and rock him like the small child he had been, like the child he would always be in his mother's eyes, the child she had missed so much. Wanted to scold him, skin him, send him to his room without dinner and supper for scaring her so. To ask him question after question after question;_ where did you go, why did you go, why were you away so long, did you think of us at all, did we upset you... Don't you love us like we love you?_ Oh, she had been so happy to have her son back, but she couldn't help wondering...

It was only now, while she stood aside to let his father greet him, that she saw he wasn't her lad. Not the same lad. Not the same lad she knew about a year ago. She was his mother; doubtless she would be the only one (besides, perhaps, her husband) who would ever notice the difference, small as it was. She couldn't even tell what the change was, but she knew it was there, whatever it was. Thinking about it though, there was a certain... grimness about him. Well, that was to be expected. After all, the only thing that had stopped him returning sooner was the battle over in Bywater. At least a dozen hobbits killed, she had heard, more than three times that, she had heard from others. Such tragedy, such devastation was bound to make any hobbit feel the same way. But still...

She would just have to ponder over it, maybe ask her husband, or her son himself once he'd settled in a bit.

Her happy tears were still damp on her cheeks, leaving a sting in the cold. Esmerelda followed as her husband led Merry into the Hall amid a cheering, whistling crowd, all turned out to hail the great hero of the Shire and Buckland, Captain Meriadoc. She watched and smiled as he bent to embrace a couple of favourite relations that were desperate to welcome him back. Then she had a thought.

'My goodness!' her memory exclaimed. 'He's grown taller!'


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Any inaccuracies or general bad writing is down to the horrible flu-ish thing that I have. It's because of it that I couldn't sleep and started writing at 2AM.

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Gone, they'd said. Lost, vanished, dead.

Dead indeed.

He certainly didn't look dead. In fact, he couldn't have looked more alive. He ought to fetch those fools right now and shove his son in their faces. But he had no time for that now. No, he had an army to muster, by order of his son. By order of his son… Well well, that hadn't happened before. His son giving orders like that was… well, it was unnatural. He'd never been the commanding sort before he'd gone. Perhaps he'd come back with more than just outlandish clothes and three inches height.

'' '' ''

He only wished he'd had the same faith that Pimpernel had had. Perhaps then he wouldn't feel so guilty, so awful, so inadequate. He'd lost all hope for his son's homecoming, and he hadn't' been the only one, he knew. But no one could feel so ashamed as him at that moment.

Gone, they'd said. Lost, vanished, dead. And he'd believed every word. He'd lapped it up and then he'd brought his family down with him, down into misery and grief.

He was glad to have Pippin home, of course. He couldn't remember being so overjoyed. But in remembering his doubt, he was strangely subdued for such a wonderful occasion, and Pippin noticed.

He looked at his father, and Paladin saw something there, in his face and expression. He'd never been able to read his son as well as he could anyone else. Confusion? Hurt? Resentment? Understanding, perhaps? He hoped it was the last. He didn't think he could explain, and he wouldn't be able to face Pippin if he knew he had hurt him in any way. And he'd never be able to bear being hated by his only son.

Pippin came to Paladin last, his mother and sisters thoroughly assured of his well-being for now. All thoughts of shame and guilt fleeing for a second, Paladin realised he now had to look up at his son. He'd realised he'd gotten taller, he wasn't so bad a father as all that, It just hadn't really registered. But he could still see into those big eyes, no matter how tall he was. And there was something new in them. Before he could look any deeper, he was pulled into a crushing embrace, was stunned for a split second, and hugged back, just as hard.

Pippin understood.

Oh, his lad had grown in more ways than one.

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There is also a sort of side story to go with this chapter that expands on some of the details mentioned. It might be posted later today if I can tidy it up a bit.

Also, if you're reading this, I think I can reach the safe conclusion that you have read this chapter and are now going to review :)

I'm shameless, really I am.


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